


Mr. Mistletoe

by littlereyofsunlight



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Canon Divergence - Post-Avengers (2012), F/M, Peggy in the future, Steggy Secret Santa, Tony Is Not Helping, holiday fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-23 13:10:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14333142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlereyofsunlight/pseuds/littlereyofsunlight
Summary: Peggy is in the future, living in Avengers tower. But she and Steve aren’t together, and the unresolved nature of this MAJOR BIG LOVE STORY is really getting to Tony.





	Mr. Mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

> A (ridiculously belated) Steggy exchange gift for [ itickledthesleepingdragon](http://itickledthesleepingdragon.tumblr.com). I hope you enjoy it!

*

Steve had gotten used to seeing some pretty unusual things in the year since he’d been back in the world. Not just the helicarrier, or the aliens, or Thor. Things folks these days took for granted, like teens with rainbow hair, parents with kids on leashes, or, even though Steve was no prude, what seemed like a gratuitous amount of what Tony liked to call “PDA” in places like the subway and at Starbucks. 

Now, Steve hadn’t had much difficulty adapting, contrary to what some people might expect, but that didn’t mean, when Peggy—young, vital Peggy, hardly a day older than when he’d last seen her in 1945—had showed up at the tower one fall morning, that he was going to kiss her right in front of everyone. Not even if that was all he could think of doing from the very moment he set eyes on her for the first time in a year (or seventy, depending on how you looked at it.) He might have gotten used to seeing others engaging in it, but he hadn’t exactly had any practice with PDA himself, not since that speeding car in the Alps. So, no matter how enticing he still found her red, red lips, he wasn’t going to sweep her up in his arms and lay one on her. 

He was just going to think very hard about doing so.

*

“No.”

Tony knew all of Pepper’s ‘no’s by heart. They’d worked this out, over the years, before romance was in the picture (that was a situation where there was no need for interpretation.) There was the hard no, of course, which brooked no argument. And the exasperated no, for when Tony was trying—and usually succeeding—in wearing her down. The laughing no, that one he didn’t get very often, and the shocked no, which he’d been hearing a lot, only not directed at him, since Fury and his cadre of S.H.I.E.L.D.-ettes came into his life. This no, however, was of the fond variety. 

That meant Tony could go on doing exactly as he pleased, which at this exact moment was draping Butterfingers and Dum-E in garlands, festooned with sprigs of mistletoe hanging from each extendable arm. 

“What?” he asked, the very picture of innocence. “We need some holiday cheer around here. Birdman’s still kinda sore over the whole brainwashing thing, and Natasha is a creepy stealth assassin, which, you know, brings down the mood a little, and then there’s Capsicle, pining over his long-lost sweetheart even though she’s staying in the room across the hall.” He stuck the end of Dum-E’s garland in place with a bit of electrical tape. “If Banner’s not gonna provide some greenery,” he smirked at his own joke, “I’ll be the one to do it.”

“I think Natasha’s Jewish, actually.” Pepper came over to stand next to him and survey the finished product.

“Natasha is scary as shit, is what she is. But I’ll do up U with some gelt. Or a menorah?” He rubbed his goatee. “That might be a fire hazard, though, and I’ve taken Dum-E off extinguisher duty until the new year.” 

“This is an awful lot of trouble to go to just to confirm something that’s none of your business,” Pepper observed sagely.

“My dear,” Tony replied, standing up and placing his hands on her shoulders, “have you ever known me not to engage in an elaborate scheme to avoid potential awkwardness?”

Pepper sighed. “Point.”

He kissed the tip of her nose. “I can’t stand to see all that repressed longing. Those two old fogeys are gonna kiss by Christmas and, more importantly, prove me right.”

“You’re a hopeless romantic.”

Tony twitched. “Tell no one. I’ve got a rep to protect.”

“No one would believe me, don’t worry,” Pepper said with that soft, fond smile on her face.

*

Steve was tempted to kiss her the moment she entered the kitchen, hair pinned back in a tidy updo, modern clothes freshly pressed, lips, as ever, painted a juicy, ripe red. He watched her bustle over to the pantry and consider the overwhelming options Stark provided. But Peggy was characteristically unerring in her direction, and made her choice quickly, decisively. Steve resisted temptation, but just barely. 

The microwave in front of Peggy, another bit of Starktech, had far too many buttons. But more than that, this whole living in the future business came with an awful lot of catching up to do, and after two months of it, Peggy was feeling the fatigue. She sighed as she studied the control panel again.

“Having trouble?” Steve asked from across the expansive modern kitchen. He’d taken to all the new equipment like a duck to water, much to Peggy’s frustration. 

“I just want to warm up some soup for lunch.” She looked back into the microwave, a bit mournfully. “The last time I asked the electronic butler for a saucepan to use on the cooktop, it suggested I use this blasted thing instead. But there are so many settings and none of them make sense. Defrost? Popcorn? Steve, there’s a setting for Chinese leftovers on here but no button for soup!”

Steve had made his way over to her during Peggy’s rant, and was now studying the control panel. She admired the way his brows drew together while he was deep in thought, and then he poked at the microwave a few times and it turned on. Peggy looked again. “What setting was that?”

Steve shrugged. “I just set it to run for a few minutes to heat up your soup.”

Peggy frowned and went back to watching her bowl as it spun lazily. 

“Hey,” Steve said, turning back to the sandwiches he had been making for his own lunch, “you know you can just ask JARVIS to run whatever machine for you. He’s wired in to all the tower equipment.”

“Yes, Agent Carter, I’m happy to assist you while you continue to acclimate to your new surroundings,” JARVIS piped up.

“I’d rather learn to do for myself, thanks,” Peggy replied stiffly, shooting Steve a dirty look.

He raised his eyebrows but wisely didn’t respond. Instead, he crammed half of his first sandwich into his mouth. 

As the microwave dinged, they were joined in the kitchen by one of Stark’s little robots. It whirred excitedly as it trundled over to them and raised its decorated arm in a distinctly triumphant manner. 

All three waited a moment, as though something else might happen, but nothing did. Steve shrugged and went back to his sandwich, Peggy edged out from behind the robot to bring her lunch over to the island to sit down, and Dum-E waited another minute, then gave a sad whistle before trundling back out.

Peggy looked at Steve and shook her head. “The future.”

*

Steve started to notice the robots appearing outside of the workshop a lot more often over the next week. When he made a comment to Tony about it, the man got an odd, sly look on his face and said something cryptic about the holidays coming up. Steve knew traditions had changed over the years—Pepper had recently had to explain the “fun” of Elf on a Shelf to him—but he had a hard time picturing normal people decorating their Roombas and other home devices the way Tony alluded to. 

He and Peggy were lounging in the common area on Sunday afternoon with a game on the television and the paper split between them. A soft thud sounded near the corner over the south doorway, and they both glanced up, though no one was there.

Peggy looked at Steve, one perfectly manicured eyebrow arched. He resisted the urge to vault over to her end of the couch and press insistent, breathless kisses against her mouth. Even on an idle Sunday, she’d still painted her full lips in her signature color. 

Steve shrugged, stifling the urge. “Maybe Dum-E ran into a wall.”

Peggy looked back to the door. “It sounded like it came from the ceiling.” She stared at the spot a while longer, but eventually followed Steve’s example and went back to the paper in her lap.

*

In the vent above the door to the common area, Clint muttered “Abort!” under his breath.

“What?” Tony’s voice was perfectly clear in his earpiece.

“I’ve been made.”

Tony, safe in his workshop on another floor, scanned the live video feed of Spangles and his long-lost love. They hadn’t moved. “Negative. Proceed with your mission.”

Clint exhaled and shook his head. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this, Stark.”

“Yes you can.” Tony smirked. “You’ve been dying to get into the Tower vents.”

“What makes you think this is my first time in the vents?” Clint shot back.

“I know every single time you’ve been in my vents, buddy.” Tony replied. “There’s no part of this building JARVIS doesn’t see.”

Clint chuckled and patted the spring of mistletoe he’d tucked into his tac vest. He surveyed the next section of vent and made a plan for moving forward. Then Tony’s words brought him up short. “Wait, Tony, no part? Not...any...part?”

Stark started to sputter something about there not being any audio, but Clint was having none of it. “Nope, nuh-uh.” He started backing out the way he’d entered. “You’re on your own, creeper. And I’m moving back to Brooklyn.”

*

“Tony.” Pepper had that tone in her voice. The one that thrilled him and scared him in equal measure.

A butterfly appeared in his stomach, and it had brought friends. He hunched down a bit further into the belly of the over-large suit he was working on and kept soldering.

“Tony.”

Tony started to hum under his breath, still pretending not to hear her. She sounded really peeved, and he was in the middle of some important wires. Veronica needed these wires. 

“Tony.” And that was Rhodey. Damnit, Pepper had called in reinforcements. But this one wire was proving tricky, his angle of approach was off. So he twisted at the hips, adjusted his elbow and squinted very, very hard behind his safety glasses. There, that was better. He’d finished by the time he felt Rhodey grab his t-shirt between his shoulder blades and yank him up out of the suit. Well, time to face the firing squad.

“Tony!” This time he heard it in stereo, as he took in the disapproving faces in front of him.

He held up his hands. “Honestly, I’m feeling a little attacked right now.”

Pepper pursed her lips. Rhodey sucked his teeth. They both stood there with their arms crossed, radiating judgement. Despite himself, Tony felt heat start to spread on the back of his neck.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Whatever it was, it was wrong and I’ll never do it again.”

His girlfriend and his best friend rolled their eyes to the ceiling in unison.

“Er, what was it I did this time?”

Pepper snapped her gaze back to his face. “You’re driving Avengers out of the tower.”

“Because they’ve learned they’re under 24-hour surveillance,” Rhodey chimed in.

“In my defense,” Tony piped up, stopping them both before the yelling could continue, “they work for S.H.I.E.L.D., so I don’t know what they expected.”

“But they live _here_ , Tony,” Pepper said. “And it’s not even true!”

“Well, it’s sort of true. JARVIS monitors all activity in the tower, for safety.”

Rhodey gave him a hard look. “But you programmed everything so that no human can access video feeds in private quarters unless there’s an immediate threat.”

“I did that.”

Pepper threw up her hands. “So why didn’t you _tell_ Clint that?” she asked. “Now he’s got Banner in a state, and Peggy’s on the verge of packing both her bags and Steve’s.”

Tony shrugged. 

“Hill isn’t going to like this.”

“Fury’s going to like it less,” Rhodey said. “We need the Avengers under one roof if you’re going to have any hope of responding to issues within a reasonable timeframe. Which is why you need to explain things to Clint.”

“And apologize,” Pepper added. 

“And quit it with the mistletoe thing,” Rhodey finished. 

“Wait a minute,” Tony said, brows drawn together. “That has nothing to do with tower surveillance.”

“Tony.” Pepper chided while Rhodey sighed in exasperation.

“It doesn’t! It’s just a little harmless fun. I’m trying to get people in the holiday spirit! Instill a feeling of togetherness.” He snapped his fingers. “In fact, if we’re trying to keep everyone together, I should throw a party.”

“A party?” Pepper’s face looked doubtful.

“A holiday party.” Tony nodded a bit manically, already planning faster than he could speak. “And an official welcome party, for the other Avengers. We never got the chance, after everything, to celebrate having the gang all together.”

Rhodey nodded, warming to the idea—obviously enough time had passed for him since Tony’s last disastrous attempt at a party— but Pepper still had that little frown line between her brows. “If you’re using this as another excuse to try and get Steve and Peggy under the mistletoe, Tony, I swear—”

He darted in to cut her off with a quick kiss. “No, you’re right, Pep. Those plans were dumb.” He crossed his fingers behind his back, knowing Rhodey couldn’t see. “This is just an excuse for a party.”

*

Tony was one of the smartest people in the world, so he knew enough to let Pepper plan the holiday party, after he’d apologized to Clint and assured him of his privacy if he continued to make his home in the tower.

The resulting fête was tasteful and understated, except for the two things Tony had insisted on: a champagne fountain in the middle of the dance floor, and large, garish balls of mistletoe hung from the ceiling. To the event planner’s credit, she’d made the whole thing look classy, even with those last-minute requirements. 

Pepper took one look at the finished space and given Tony such an epic side-eye, he’d almost asked JARVIS to take a photo. But she hadn’t said anything, and when the time came for them to get ready, she was still wearing the dress he’d bought her (one he’d actually picked out this time.) So he figured he might be in the clear.

Across the room, Steve and Peggy were talking to Thor, who had flown in for the occasion. Steve was distracted while Thor described the grandeur of his homeworld; Peggy had of course worn her customary red lipstick, and her cocktail dress skimmed over all her curves, proving difficult for Steve to resist. He managed to do so only by keeping a respectful distance between them, but his palm still itched to rest at the small of her back, just where a triangle of fabric had been cut out, revealing creamy pale skin beneath. As she laughed at something Steve hadn’t heard Thor say, he noticed (again) how the sweetheart neckline framed her collarbones. He thought about pulling her close and dropping a necklace of kisses across them. He thought about doing a great deal more, but then Natasha and Clint interrupted the conversation.

Natasha ducked in to kiss Thor on his cheek, and simply pointed up to the pomander directly above his head in explanation.

“Oh yes,” Thor boomed, “I love this particular custom!” He crushed Steve against his side in a one-armed hug and pressed a smacking kiss on the side of his face. While Steve went bright red, Peggy snorted into her drink, laughing. Thor released Steve and offered his hand to Peggy. “May I?”

Peggy gulped down her champagne, handed the glass to Clint and took Thor’s hand with a wicked smile. “Well, when in Rome.” 

Thor reeled her in close and pressed his lips lightly against hers for just a moment. “Thank you,” he smiled down at her with mischief in his eyes.

Peggy raised her eyebrow. “Likewise.”

Steve studied his shoes. Peggy stepped back out of the circle of Thor’s arms. 

“Ooops,” Nat said, raising her eyes toward the ceiling again. 

Peggy had stepped directly under the same mistletoe Steve stood beneath. 

As they regarded one another, several things happened. 

Dum-E, recognizing its moment, trilled a series of excited whistles and started across the floor, arm raised like a knight preparing to joust, mistletoe merrily bobbing on the end as it charged over to the group.

Tony, who, like his robot, had been watching for just this moment, also began to cross the room at an excited pace. 

Peggy tipped her head to one side, offering Steve her cheek. Steve, surprised and a little nervous, cleared his throat and adjusted his tie before leaning in to graze a kiss over her cheekbone. Peggy caught his arm at the elbow with a little squeeze as he did. They shared a plainly heated look.

Clint chuckled under his breath and leaned into Natasha’s side. “Finally.”

Nat linked her arm through his. “Oh, you have no idea,” she replied in an inscrutable tone.

Clint turned his face to hers, brows drawn together in confusion, lips pursed to question her statement. Before he could get a word out, from the center of the room there was a shout, then in quick succession an irritated whistle and a loud splash.

The bandleader hastily cut his singer off in the middle of a lovely rendition of "I'm Making Believe." Everyone turned to look as Tony came up sputtering from the champagne fountain, expensive wine streaming from his suit. “No!” he yelled, pointing over at the knot of his fellow Avengers. “I did not go to all this trouble for that anticlimactic bit of nothing.” Dum-E remorsefully plucked at Tony’s sleeve from over the edge of the fountain, smacking him with the mistletoe each time. 

Peggy rolled her eyes, looked at Steve and then cut a glance towards the nearest door. He nodded, and together they made a hasty exit while the others converged on Tony.

Tony sat at the edge of the fountain and shook champagne out of his shoe. Pepper stood over him, judging. “Honestly, Tony, you kind of deserved this.” She took the stack of towels a helpful waiter had run over with into her hands, waiting for his response.

He nodded and shook his head to one side, wincing as he felt a trickle of the beverage run out of his ear. “For once, Pep, I’m not even going to argue. This whole endeavor has been ridiculous from the start.”

“So you should go apologize to them.” At his affronted look, she tossed a towel in his face. “Do it.”

*

To make sure he did, Pepper and the Avengers followed him out into the hallway. 

About halfway down to the elevator bay, Tony stopped so abruptly that Pepper ran right into his back. Luckily, she still had the stack of towels in her arms, so the silk of her dress was spared.

It turned out, Steve and Peggy hadn’t gone far. Steve had pressed her up against a wall, and Peggy’s arms wound around Steve’s neck, her hands threaded in his hair. One shoulder of Peggy’s dress had fallen down her arm, and Steve was tracing his fingers up and down the bra strap that had been revealed. They were kissing with such fervor, Pepper doubted they’d noticed the whole group of them watching.

Until Tony started laughing.

Startled, Peggy and Steve broke apart. Peggy’s red lipstick was smeared across her chin. Pepper made a mental note to introduce her to a few long-wearing versions. Steve reluctantly fixed Peggy’s dress while she cleared her throat and tried to fix her hair.

“Hi gang,” Steve said, shooting for a breezy tone. He shoved his hands into his pockets. Peggy looked at him like he’d sprouted another head. Tony kept laughing.

“Um,” Pepper started, not sure what to say.

“I knew it!” Tony gasped through his mirth. “I knew if I kept at it, you two would kiss eventually.”

Now Peggy trained her skeptical look on Tony. “Beg pardon?”

But Tony was overcome again, and could not answer. 

“He’s been chasing you two with mistletoe since after Thanksgiving,” Nat said in her dry voice. “The whole party was to get you two give in to your feelings. He thought it was time for you to take up where you left off in 1945.” She examined at her flawless manicure as she spoke, and Pepper had the feeling somewhere, very deep down, Natasha was laughing harder than Tony. 

Steve’s face clouded over. “But…”

“It worked!” Tony crowed, in control of himself again. “You’re very welcome.” He raised his hand, and, after an awkward moment, Thor leaned forward to oblige him with a high-five.

Peggy stepped out from behind Steve’s shoulder. “Have you all been under the impression that Steve and I are only friends?”

Natasha remained silent and still, but the rest of them nodded and murmured in the affirmative. Oh, Pepper thought. _Oh._ Somewhere behind her, she heard Clint mutter a very soft "Oh, shit."

Peggy rolled her eyes. “Brilliant.” She turned back to Steve. “Well, now we know Tony’s telling the truth about surveillance in the private residences.” 

Steve’s face brightened at that. “Good point.”

Peggy smiled up at him. Steve smiled back instantly, a goofy grin that spread over his entire face, with starry eyes to complete the look. “You, uh, you’ve got something—” he sketched one of his hands in front of his own chin, but the smitten look remained.

She wiped at her face absent-mindedly. “Well, I’m not the only person who needs to freshen up, anyhow.” Peggy looked over her shoulder. “Was that enough of a display, Tony? May we now be excused from your lavish and exciting party?””

Tony—the _genius playboy_ billionaire philanthropist—was finally catching on. “Wait—no.” He shook a finger at them both. “No! You never even touched each other, I looked for it! You can’t expect me to believe—”

“That we’re together?” Steve shook his head. “You and Ms. Potts are dating, but no one expects you two to be pawing each other all over the tower.”

“That’s different!” Tony started.

“ _How_?” Pepper and Peggy asked in unison. Tony was momentarily speechless.

“Well, if it’s a demonstration you’re after,” Peggy shrugged and grabbed Steve by the tie, reeling him in for a kiss. Steve leaned into it, his arms wrapping around her waist automatically. After a moment, with Tony still sputtering behind them, Peggy braced her hands on Steve’s shoulders and hopped up, locking her legs around his torso. “Take me upstairs, Steve,” she whispered so only he could hear.

He nodded, breathless, and walked them over to the elevators while she bit down on his left earlobe and gave a saucy little wave to their dumbfounded friends.

“Thanks for the party!” Steve tossed over his shoulder as the elevator doors shut, Peggy’s laugh carrying over the tasteful elevator music.


End file.
